my inner child half smiles at me from my ori altar.
in her thick pigtails and striped shirt, she could either be entering a fit of giggles or preparing to ask some profound question in the way only a 4 or 5 year old can.
i have no way of knowing for sure, but i am fairly certain she is a more innocent version of me. the sweetness before the pain.
my last therapist was also a shaman. once, near the end of a session, she asked if i knew someone named anne. when i told her no, she asked me to think about it. anne wanted to teach me, needed me to listen to her.
i became still, and it dawned on me: anne was part of my own name.
full of grace, mercy.
god favors me.
my inner child was speaking. she remembered why i came.
and now, finally, i feel like i might be catching on.